


She Who Slept

by jasminefiregreen



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anders Needs a Hug, Begins Before Wicked Eyes And Wicked Hearts, Cole Is A Cinnamon Roll, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Elf Culture & Customs, Elf rights, F/M, Helpful Cole (Dragon Age), Mage Hawke (Dragon Age), Mage Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Mage Rights, Multi, Rogue Warden (Dragon Age), Solas Angst, Solas Spoilers, Solas is Fen'Harel, Spirit Cole (Dragon Age), Varric Tethras is a Good Friend, Varric Writes Friend Fiction, Warden Alistair, Warden Tabris (Dragon Age), bit of an AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-06-27 05:18:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15678804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasminefiregreen/pseuds/jasminefiregreen
Summary: When war erupted between the Elvhen, she stood at Fen'Harel's back. Then she slept and the world fell apart. When she awakened, she was given purpose and a City of Chains needing to be freed. Now, with her efforts foiled and her trust broken she is sent to what once was her home. Lies will be revealed and deceptions cast away in the Heart of the Inquisition.





	1. Familiar Places- Rewritten

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: The world slate here has Tabris as Warden with Alistair for romance and Morrigan the baby-maker. Anora is ruling, Alistair is still a Grey Warden. Marian Hawke is a sassy mage who bagged Broody as a romantic partner. Arishok was killed, mages sided with, and Anders lived. Inquisitor is a Dalish elf who sided with the mages. Begins before Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts.
> 
> P.S. I suck at updating, but at least I know where this plot is going. Much better than my other stories. Apologies for future late updates. 
> 
> P.S.S. I own nothing. Anything that doesn’t go by the name of Lana belongs to the Creators, Bioware.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a rewrite of my previously posted chapter 1. I will probably rewrite chapter two as well along with the chapters I have pre-written.

**A/N: I’m just gonna keep rewriting this until I get up the motivation to write more chapters. Will this be the final version? Will a new chapter finally be created? The world may never know!**

  
  


Skyhold was a horribly frigid place. Lana hated the place on the very principle that elves should not remain in cold environments. They were barefoot for the majority of the time and bare feet did not do well in snow. Add in the fact that most had very little body mass to keep warm and pointy ears that were exposed to the wind, it was miserable. She was faring better than most due to being taller than the average elf, having more muscle mass from fighting, and from the sneaky usage of magic. Still, even with all those advantages, she was barely keeping from freezing. Lana was actually beginning to miss Kirkwall due to this savage weather. Kirkwall was at least warm. Kirkwall was also in shambles at the moment, but the weather was lovely. The smell of piss and booze not so much, but the weather was always pleasant.

Lana was more than a little surprised to find herself missing the free city. She had spent the last nine years there and in that time she had never viewed it fondly. When she had first arrived there, she had been newly woken up. Only a year or so into the waking world with little experience in it. If there was one thing Kirkwall was good for, it was learning how to lie, cheat, and play dirty in very little time. She would’ve left after being there for more than 5 minutes, but she owed the spirits. She owed them for her knowledge, for their favors, and for her very life. And the spirits had wanted her there. A whispered request upon waking and dreams that led her right to the free city. Despite her feelings on Kirkwall, she had remained for all those years for that reason only. She dealt with power-hungry and ignorant templars who hounded her every step. Learned how to bargain and deal with thieves and criminals until she had enough of a standing to survive the rat race alone. Hell, she had even dealt with the frickin’ Qunari in order to repay the spirits. That was not a fun time. Now, she was traveling to the middle of nowhere to join the bloody Inquisition for them. Well, not nowhere, but nowhere she would want to be.

The Inquisition. A place she wanted to be even less than Kirkwall. An organization based off of finding out the truth with a religious fervour. Or converting and murdering their way across Thedas and making false promises to elves. Not the kind of place that an elf with no past and an entirely made up identity would want to be. Even if the group was proclaimed to be mage and elf friendly. Add in the fact that the Inquisition had been making friends in high places and she was in trouble. The only bright side was that vocal support of mage and elven rights was helping reduce the amount of work for her. Her groups and organizations were getting their wheels greased every time word came around of the Elven Inquisitor’s good magical deeds. Lana only hoped that the organization practiced what they preached and weren’t just using the Inquisitor as a convenient figurehead.

On top of this, the journey there itself was particularly rough. It was only supposed to take two weeks. Two weeks quickly turned into two months due to the stops she had to make along the way. After hearing a particularly harrowing story about how their Spymaster handled threats, she made several detours in order to build herself a backstory. Sure, Lana had the nine years in Kirkwall, but any Spymaster worth their salt would dig farther back than that. So, she had to trade favors, money, and information in order to build a history for herself. It was a fairly simple history, but common enough that it wouldn’t seem odd. A history involving a traveling Dalish clan and clashing beliefs resulting in exile. It would have been easier to say she was from an alienage, but that choice was already made when she walked into Kirkwall with slave brandings on her face. It stung her pride harshly, considering she fought against all forms of slavery, but there was no other option. Lana knew she was far too knowledgeable and prideful to be a city elf, despite toning it down already. Add in her height and her skill with fighting, reading, and writing and no one would’ve bought her story. Now it was too late to change it now considering the amount of people in Kirkwall who knew her as Dalish. And as a magicless rogue. People who would trade information for coin at the drop of a hat. She was banking on the fact that Dalish clans were historically hard to get in touch with. Especially when communicating with human organizations. It should keep anyone from protesting her story. 

Now that she has finally arrived at Skyhold, there was a new set of problems. She could see the bridge and the giant fortress from where she was camped. The view made her feel nostalgic and the familiar feel of magic on her skin made her loss seem keener. This was his place and his magic was ingrained in the very land. Tarasyl'an Te'las, the place where the sky was held back. Tarasyl'an Te'las, the place where Fen’Harel erected the Fade and where he held his forces. Home. Now it was merely Skyhold, the headquarters for the Inquisition. A downgrade if she’s ever seen one. The guards on the bridge, checking credentials, were the main problem. Lana had no clue if someone was told she was coming. She was supposed to help one of the Inquisitor's companions, a man named Cole. The spirits declined to tell her what she needed to help with or any details about the situation. Lana truly loved spirits, having the title of Elgar Falon, Friend of Spirits, but they were very vague and rarely gave out any clear details or tasks. However, her supplies were scant and she couldn’t stay outside of Skyhold for any longer. There was no choice, but to hope that she could talk her way in and track down this ‘Cole’. Hopefully, he would at least know she was coming, but even the odds of that weren’t high.

Lana quickly disassembled her camp and packed what was left of her supplies. She started to make her way to the bridge while thinking up a strategy. Her clothes were filthy and tattered, so she could pull off refugee fairly easily. Just needed to keep her weapons hidden and she would pass for one. But, it was a lie. A lie easily saw once she found Cole and started ‘helping’ without whatever task the spirits deemed her worthy of. There was no reason to seem untrustworthy if she didn’t have to. The more she lied now, the more her past would be scrutinized later. 

      She was quickly approaching the guards, both of which were looking at her in disdain. Better off just going with the truth and hoping for the best. 

“Hello, good Ser.” She greeted the one she was in front of. He had a clipboard in hand and a scowl on his face.

“State your purpose and business, Elf.” Was the gruff reply she received. At least he refrained from saying ‘knife-ear’. Still, her pride stung. She stood to her full height, taking pleasure in the surprise that the guard showed at her height. Humans were always so shocked that an elf, especially a female elf, was eye level with them. It was a quick way to get them off balance while providing much entertainment. 

“My presence was requested by one of the companions of the Inquisitor. I’ve spent many months traveling and I don’t appreciate the lack of respect.” Lana responded pompously. She thought she was doing a marvelous impression of an Orlesian noble. Apparently, so did the guard judging by how pale he looked. Hopefully, he wouldn’t think to hard about the fact an elf was behaving like a noble, but then again, guards weren’t really known for deep thought.

“N-no one has informed me of your arrival.” The guard stuttered out. 

“Clearly,” Lana responded with disdain and dipped slightly into an Orlesian accent.  

“I can’t just let you in here.” The guard glanced nervously at his fellows, but they steadfastly ignored him.

“Oh really?” Lana paused for a moment. “I wonder what our dear Inquisitor will think of you blocking my entrance into Skyhold? No doubt a human would have already been allowed through. Is it because I’m an elf? Because that is the only reason I can think of that you would continue to impede the request of one of the Inquisitor’s companions. What would the Inquisitor, who is also a Dalish elf, think of this little incident?” Lana wondered for a second if she was being too heavy handed with her blackmail, but the guard’s face paled dramatically when her threat sank in.

“I’m sure the Inquisitor doesn’t need to hear about this.” He fidgeted with his clipboard and Lana smiled kindly at him.

“I’m sure she doesn’t and she won’t have to if you would simply allow me in to attend to her companion.” She raised an eyebrow and the guard nodded.

“Of course! I just need to get your name for the record and off you can trot.” The guard spoke with false politeness, but as long as she got through it didn’t matter. 

“Lana.” She answered and he recorded it before waving her into the fortress. As she walked pass, she saw him glance at her suspiciously out of the corner of her eye. Lana was sure that he would be telling his superior about her, but hopefully by then it would be a non-issue. 

Skyhold still looked like she remembered. The paint was gone, along with many of the smaller buildings, but the overall appearance was the same. It seemed as if the Inquisition had gone a long way in repairing it. She looked around a bit before the scent of food reached her. Her stomach growled in response and she debated following the scent. It wasn’t like this Cole was going to disappear anytime soon and she had some money left over from her travels. Lana shrugged to herself and started to track down the scent. 

The scent led to a large tavern called the Herald’s Rest. Not the most creative of names. Lana quickly opened the door and entered the building. Warmth immediately hit her and she took a moment to enjoy it the reprieve from the winter’s chill. There were several groups of people on the main floor, drinking and eating. She spied some on the second floor as well. It was surprisingly cheery inside considering its occupants were either soldiers or refugees. There was a bard singing about some girl named Sera and some barmaids walking around. Lana started to make her way towards the bartender, a very grim looking dwarf. She sat down on one of the stools at the bar with a groan. Her body was aching and tired. A bath. A bath was desperately needed. Times like these really made her miss the ability to cast a quick healing spell on her body to reduce the aches. 

“What do you have for food around here?” Lana asked the bartender and he inspected her. She must have looked as ragged as she felt because a mug of mead was set down in front of her immediately. Apparently, he thought she needed it. She took a deep drink from the mug and the burn down her throat was happily received. Another added heat to slowly draw the chill out of her bones. 

“We’ve got a bit bread and gruel left from lunch.” He answered her grumpily. Ugh. Not the best of food, but she couldn’t be picky. Lana nodded and the bartender disappeared. God, she loved taverns. No excess communication needed or any unwanted questions. Better establishments had better fare, but the customers and workers were far too nosey for her taste.  A bowl of chunky gruel was set in front of her with a slice of sour bread. She dug in with vigor. It was tasteless, but it was warm and filling. After cleaning the bowl and the only bread left was crumbs, she paid the bartender. Lana sat with her mead in one hand as she pondered over how she was supposed to find this Cole. A noise to right next her had her jerking in surprise and choking on her mead.

A young blonde haired boy sat next to and watched her silently as she was bent over coughing. He had a shabby looking patchwork hat on his head with limp blonde hair in front of his eyes. Large bags were under his eyes and his face was gaunt. It looked as if he hadn’t eaten for months. His clothes were ragged and patched with tears in the worn fabric much like his hat. She narrowed her eyes at him. She didn’t hear him even come near her, let alone sit down next to her. The bartender had also mysteriously disappeared from behind the bar. 

“Tired. Weary. Body heavy with worry and exhaustion. Only wants to help. Needs to help. So many failures that I need to make up for. Lost so much time, needs to help. Is here to help.” The boy spoke and Lana frowned.

“What?” She asked in confusion and the young man matched her expression.

“Looking for Cole. Unsure if he knows. Hoping he knows. Asked to help. Needs to repay them. The tired looking boy looks strange. Wants to find him better clothes. Wants to help him. Needs to help him. Cole.” He spoke again and comprehension dawned on her. 

“Cole. You’re Cole.” Lana stated and the boy, Cole, nodded. She took a moment and truly took in his appearance and what he was saying. Suspicion grew in her mind. Along with a heaping dose of curiosity.

“Knew his kind. Knew what he began as. Helping, healing those in need. Rare, but a welcome sight. Friend. Elgar Falon.” A happy smile appeared on his face before he grabbed her in a hug. His pattern of speech rang a bell in her head and she tried to suss out who exactly she was talking with or rather what he began as. Spirit was obviously what came first, but what is he now? A Cole. Having a body and a human name were not typical spirit traits, but they were the traits of a transformation. A change from fade to body, of emotion to physical. She had only seen it a few times in her lifetime, but even before her slumber, it was rare. Lana would’ve figured it impossible with the rising of the veil. 

     “Who were you, friend?” Lana asked and Cole frowned.

     “Helping, healing, mending hurts. So much pain, so much suffering. Wants to help, like you! Needs to help. Used to be easier to help, but now I feel much more! Easier to understand, but harder to help.” He had a complicated expression on his face as if he couldn’t decide if the understanding was worth the helping. 

“Compassion?” She asked and he nodded his head with a smile. Knowing what he once was would make knowing who he now is much easier. A former spirit of compassion or rather only partly compassion. So, this was who they sent her to help. Perhaps with his transforming? Easing the way? However, with current events, it was doubtful that they would send her into the Inquisition’s clutches for only that. She had been in Kirkwall, the place where the mage and templar war started with vigor, to help a spirit of justice. Now she was in the Skyhold, helping a spirit of compassion. Helping Justice seemed like a much smaller picture when in Kirkwall, but it became so much more. It wouldn’t be surprising if her helping of Compassion, Cole, would take the same turn. Especially considering the former breach in the sky.  

Cole released her from the embrace that she had forgotten she was in and stepped back from her. “Do you know what I’m supposed to help with?” Lana inquired. She was really hoping to get some sort of idea of why she was here. Or at least know that the spirit knew why. 

“Can’t tell you yet. Too important.” Lana resisted letting out a sigh. Well, at least Cole had an idea of what she was supposed to do, even if she didn’t. It wouldn’t be the first time when the spirits asked for help only to find out that they had no clue what she was supposed to help with. Cole grabbed her hand and pulled her off of the stool. She hastily sat down her mug as he pulled her away from the bar and into the cold. Lana let him lead without explanation since spirits weren’t known for explaining what was happening. Yet, she felt the need to try to get some information from him. If only to better her footing in her rocky surroundings. 

“Where are we going, Cole?” She asked as he led her into the main building of Skyhold. 

“So many decisions, so many casualties. Do we sacrifice these men to save the mission, or do we abandon the mission? Will the Nightingale kill another to save the cause or will the Antivan play her games. Maybe, the Lion will roar instead. So many hours, so many thoughts. They wait for us. Want to know who you are, want to know what you are? Why would Cole ask somebody for help? How does Cole know this person? Can Cole’s judgment be trusted?” He explained and she got the gist of it. He was taking her to the advisors who were most likely in some sort of war room. She took a moment to mourn the fact she was going to meet important people while being able to pass as a refugee. She couldn’t even remember the last time she was dirt free with hair brushed. Lana just accepted this as they reach a giant set of doors. God, she hated those doors. Why Fen’Harel felt the need to make his doors ridiculously large, she had no clue.

Cole tugged open one of the ridiculously large doors and dragged her into the room. There was a large table in the center of the room with a large map of Thedas on it. Several daggers were stabbed in it and she felt a brief stab of remorse for the poor map. It must have taken a long time to make. There were three people standing by the table, arguing and pointing at the map. Lana took the opportunity to study them while they were preoccupied. One of them was a redheaded woman with fair skin and an Orlesian accent. An OrlesIan woman with red hair in a war room. Judging by the rumors, this must be the feared and admired Nightingale. Spymaster to the Inquisition, former Left Hand of the Divine. The other women had beautiful caramel skin with a very elegant beauty mark. Her accent was Antivan, so she assumed this was the Antivian Ambassador that Cole had mentioned. Then her attention fell to the last advisor and a sneer grew on her face. He had better hair now and his appearance had the marks of exhaustion, but she still recognized him. Damn.

“I was really hoping that you weren’t the Commander,” Lana commented casually after hiding her sneer. At the moment she was very tempted to get her hidden daggers from her pack, but it was decidedly a very bad idea. She had heard the rumors that he was leading the Inquisition’s army, but she had hoped that they were just that, rumors. A bloody templar leading an entire army. The Inquisition's preaching of mage rights suddenly became much less believable. The advisors’ attention latched onto her immediately and she could see the exact moment Cullen realized who she was.

“Lana?” He asked in disbelief and what could almost be horror. She was mildly impressed that he recognized her under months of travel grime, but she supposed that if anyone could it would be Cullen.

“The one and only.” She responded and Cullen’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“What are you doing here?” and “Who are you?” were asked at the same time. One of the askers sounding much more put out than the other. Cullen’s tone showed just how happy he was to see her while the Spymaster just seemed confused at why she was in the war room. Not that Lana could blame her. She doubted filthy elves were welcomed into there often. 

“She’s the one I spoke of. The one who can help.” Cole answered for me and Cullen’s eyebrows rose. 

“She’s the one you’ve been telling us about? The one who can help Solas?” Nightingale asked and Cole nodded. “And she seems to know the Commander.” Her voice had faint tones of suspicion and curiosity. A sly eyebrow was shot at Cullen and Lana resisted a shiver of disgust at even the suggestion of her and Cullen together in any way besides a fight. Luckily, Cullen stepped in before the redheaded Spymaster got any more repugnant ideas into her head. 

“Lana resided in Kirkwall while I was a Templar there. There were numerous… altercations… between us. She was there when the Chanty blew up and helped rally and incense the mages before it. They called her ‘The Savior of the Shackled’ for her efforts with the mages and alienage within the city.” He said the title with a contempt that she could understand. She didn’t want the title either. She wasn’t some ‘Savior’, she was merely trying to fix her own mistakes. Lana also didn’t enjoy the implication she had anything to do with the Chantry exploding. 

“I do believe that Templar Cullen,” She enjoyed the flinch that came from Cullen at his former title, “is misrepresenting our time together.” She resisted smirking when she saw his face pale. “You see, he would routinely harass and arrest me for the most minor offenses during my time in Kirkwall.”

Cullen’s face reddened with offense and shame. “You were harboring apostates!” He defended himself and Lana raised a brow in contempt.

“And what evidence did you ever have of that?” Cullen pulled in a breath to retort when the Spymaster stepped in.

“As entertaining as this is, I believe we should get to the point of this matter. But, before that, I believe introductions are in order.” She gave a pointed glance at Cullen. “We wouldn’t want to be rude, would we?”

“Certainly not!” The Ambassador stepped in. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, we’ve heard much about you from Cole. I’m the Inquisition's Ambassador, Josephine. If you need anything while you are with us, feel free to come to me!” It was a very friendly and warm introduction. She also seemed surprisingly sincere. Impressive.

     Nightingale gave Lana a very sharp smile. “And I am Leliana. I handle more of the information gathering and recruiting aspect of our organization.” Such an Orlesian way to say Spy Master. “And you already seem to know our Commander, Cullen Rutherford.” 

     “It’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintances,” With the exception that she wasn’t at all happy to meet them and was really missing Kirkwall. “I’m Lana.” She introduced herself, despite the fact that Cullen already revealed her identity. Lana felt slight relief that she didn’t try to come up with a brand new identity before coming here. Cullen would have certainly recognized her with his templar nose and created a heap of issues.

“Not to get done to business so soon, but we are running short on time. Has Cole explained what your duties will be here?” Josephine asked kindly and Lana frowned in confusion. Duties? She had only come to help Cole, not the Inquisition. But, considering the company, she figured she would play along.

“Unfortunately, he hasn’t had the time yet,” Lana answered diplomatically, trying to hide her ignorance. Plus, she needed to leave a better impression than angry dirty elf that likes to argue with commanders of entire armies. Though, to be fair, she did have a habit of doing so.

“We have need of an assistant to one our Inner Circle members. An apostate elf by the name of Solas. He is an expert in matters of the Fade and spirits.” Josephine explained and Lana was interested to meet whoever had claimed to be an ‘expert’ in the Fade and spirits. Those subjects were incredibly complex with much knowledge destroyed or forgotten with the creation of the Veil. Even she couldn’t claim to be an expert in either and she probably has the most accurate Elvhen knowledge of the subjects. “However, with the Inquisitor taking him with her on missions, much of his research has been halted. We were hoping to find a mage with similar credentials to help him shoulder the burden. Cole mentioned that he had a friend that fit the bill, which must be you!” Josephine sounded sincerely happy over that fact and she hated to pop her bubble. But there was an issue. 

“You do realize that I’m not a mage,” Lana stated and Josephine’s face fell. Leliana’s brow was creased in either annoyance or confusion, so she elaborated. “I am a rogue, as Commander Cullen is aware of due to his numerous attempts to smite me,” And another flinch from Cullen, though the experience wasn’t great to remember on her end either. Only due to her lack of magic use during that time and help from the spirits did she manage to make it through those attempts without blowing her cover. “However, I do have extensive knowledge of the Fade due to my upbringing in my clan. There may not be much I contribute in terms of enchantments or spells, but I could certainly help out with other aspects of the research.” She paused, realizing that they may not accept her help now. Not that it mattered to her, but this seemed like the easiest way to find out what she actually needs to help with. She doubted the spirits sent her for a simple research job, but this worked as a nice cover. And a way to get regular pay. “If you will have me, that is.” She amended.

Leliana looked over her with consideration before turning to Cullen. “Is this true?”

“I never saw her perform any magic. Despite, her rather loud support of mages.” He looked like he was trying to break his own teeth without how hard his jaw was clenching. It was always a joy to frustrate and anger Cullen. He had been the most magic-hating and obsessive templar she had ever meant. It was only due to pure determination and luck that she hadn’t ended up on the pointy end of his sword, secret mage status or not. And now she was going to be practically living under his roof along with dozens of templars and templar trained soldiers. Joy.

“Well, that certainly puts a damper on things,” Leliana remarked. “Solas should be back with the Inquisitor in the next few days. He should be able to direct us further in this situation.” The other advisors nodded in agreement. So, she may or may not get the job. Huh.

Josephine stepped forwards. “Unfortunately, we can’t employ you until they arrive back. We can, however, provide you with accommodations in the meantime.” She resisted letting out a sigh of relief. She was grateful she wasn’t going to have to continue camping with her limited supplies. A glimmer of hope filled her that she may even get a bath.

“I appreciate your hospitality.” Lana thanked Josephine and made a short bow. It rubbed her pride wrongly, but it was necessary. Josephine beamed at her and then made a gestured to Cole who was standing behind her. He had been so quiet for the whole meeting that she had thought he had left.

“I’m sure Cole can help you find your way around.” Josephine assessed her clothing and a small hint of a grimace pulled at her lips. “I’ll have someone bring you some clothes as well.” Lana was too grateful to be offended. Her clothes were in a horrible state at the moment. 

Cole reached forward and grabbed Lana by the arm. He pulled her out of the war room before she even had the chance to make proper farewells. She hoped they would understand, she really didn’t need to alienate them this early on. Even despite her verbal brawls with Cullen. She couldn’t afford to get on Nightingale’s or Josephine’s bad side. Lana debated asking where Cole was taking her but didn’t even bother. She just kept quiet as he tugged her around Skyhold. He brought her through a series of buildings and rooms until they came to a tower. He tugged her into the tower and her breath caught in her chest.

There were beautiful murals painted on the stone walls. They were bright and colorful, featuring wolves and the sign of the Inquisition. Judging by the wear on them, they had been recently painted. She walked closer to one of them and examined it closer. There was something prickling at the back of her mind. The style and brushwork of the art were tugging at her memories. Lana waited a few minutes, hoping that a memory would come to the surface. They seemed so familiar and just looking at them made her heart hurt. When nothing surfaced from her mind, she continued her observation of the room. There was a desk in the center of the room with papers and glowing objects scattered on it.

“Searching. Searching for more answers. Searching for a way to stop the chaos. A way to bring the people back together again. Trying to save his friend. Wishing for more answers. Wishing for a different fate. He wants to give up, but his duty stops him. He only wants what is best.” Cole spoke to himself while staring at the desk. Lana tried to glean meaning from his words, but there wasn’t enough context for her to succeed. The chaos might be the whole Breach situation, but it seemed more personal given what Cole was saying. She was used to vague spirits, but it seemed like Compassion was worse than most. At least Justice had been straightforward, an asshole, but definitely straightforward. “You’ll help him. Help him help them. She’ll help him find his way and save those who had been lost.” She was assuming the man was Solas and this was his work area. At least, that was her best guess with her lack of information. And apparently, he was the person she was supposed to help. Not just for the Inquisition, but it seemed like the spirits also wanted her assistance in the matter. 

Cole grabbed her arm again and led her through another door. There was a hallway with two more doors, one on the left and one on the right. He opened one of the left and lightly pushed me in. The room obviously was previously used for storage, but there were a cot and a chest in it. A small table was also beside the bed with a candle sat on it. Lana turned towards Cole with an eyebrow raised.

“Tired, sore. Just wanted to sleep for a bit. Didn’t want to dream, but was too tired to stay awake. Muscles screaming and head foggy. Wanting a bed for so long.” He nodded at her and then left the room. Alright, she thought, guess she was meant to rest. 

She stared at the bed and wished she would have taken a bath before this. It was desperately needed, but dealing with Cullen and the other advisors left her too exhausted to search for one. Shrugging, she started to unwrap her foot bindings. They were filthy with dirt and snow. Lana threw them into the corner of the room before moving on to her leggings. Sweat, dirt, and blood covered them. Her jacket and shirt were the next to go. Torn, patched, and battered. Then she was just left in her small clothes. There was a small debate on whether or not to keep them on, but she ended throwing them into the pile of dirty clothes. Naked and cold, she crawled into the cot and pulled a thin blanket over herself. There was a small window and she noticed that the sun was going down. Her eyes closed and she left out a deep breath. It only took a few minutes before Lana was lost to the dreams in the Fade. She only hoped that her dreams wouldn’t be affected by her familiar surroundings.

 


	2. Past Memories- Rewritten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A rewrite of chapter 2.

It was dark. She was in Uthenera and she was surrounded by the fade. She couldn’t wake up, she was stuck, she was terrified. Spirits came and went, telling tales of the world that went on without her. They told her of the fall of their people, the beginnings of the Blights, and the chaos that the world was in. She was horrified to learn of everything that was happening as she slept, but she could do nothing. Her body was not yet healed or recovered, so she was forced to watch as the world crumbled around her. She was plagued with the thoughts of what she could’ve done and of the people she had lost. Their losses tore at her very soul and a part of her was glad that she didn’t have to be in the world without them. However, this desire slowly died as she watched her people suffer over and over again. She needed to wake up. She needed to help. She needed to live.

When Lana woke up, it was in a panic. Her heart was racing and she couldn’t seem to take a breath. Her mind was still there, still in the darkness. When a pair of arms wrapped around her shoulders, she barely noticed. Her only focus was centering herself in the present. She hadn’t had that dream in a long time and she wasn’t expecting it. She has mistakenly let her guard down, thinking that she had gotten over that time. The helplessness, the unending torture of watching her people suffer. It had been 9 years since she woke up, she should be over this. It was easy to determine the cause of the dream’s reemergence. She had returned to Skyhold. A place she had once considered her home and that reeked of magic. The magic that was wielded by the person who once and still holds her heart, her vhenan. The person that, even in death, had an iron grip upon her very soul. Slowly, she pulled herself away from the memory and her thoughts while taking calming breaths. It was only then when she had completely pulled herself out of the dream, did she notice the hand that rubbing circles on her bare back. Her muscles tensed.  
“Don’t worry. Just a friend. Just Cole. Heard your mind screaming, your heart hurting. Came to help. Wanted to stop your pain. Knew this place would hurt you, but we had no choice. I want to make it better, make you forget. They told me not to. Still, wish I could.” Ah, it was just Cole. It was a relief that someone told him he couldn’t just erase her memories. She needed them, they were the only things grounding her. Her only reason to keep living despite the pain that they elicit. “We know. That’s why I can’t. It would make you, not you. And we need you to be you.” Well, at least the spirits appreciated her as herself and not a memoryless husk. It’s the little things that give a person comfort. Lana glanced out the window and saw that the sun was just over the cusp of the mountains. It was early, around 6 if she had to guess. She slowly extracted herself from Cole, not really caring that she was naked. Lana knew far too many spirits to be wary of nudity around them. They were only interested in matters of soul and mind, not body, with the exception of Desire.   
Lana stretched her body a bit, ignoring the cracks and crunches. The travel to Skyhold had been brutal on her body after 9 years of city life. Not that Kirkwall wasn’t hard on her, but it was more of a mental strain than physical. She saw that there were new clothes lying on top of the chest. Someone coming in the room while she was sleeping to put them there was a very uncomfortable thought. Especially since she had slept in the nude. She frowned.  
“No. No one came in, I wouldn’t let them. Put the clothes there, knew you wanted clean. Needed clean.” She let out a sigh of relief and smiled in gratitude.  
“Thanks, Cole.”   
She ignored the clean clothes for now and put on her dirty ones. Cole seemed puzzled by her actions. Then understanding dawned on his face. “Why put something on if you are dirty. A body needs to be clean first. Warm water, steam, soap lathered in hands. Hands on your back, large and calloused. Treating the knots, bruises, and soreness. So tender, so loving.” Lana flinched and Cole stopped talking. She didn’t want any more reminders of him, not when she was already surrounded by reminders. The fact that Cole was merely putting her thoughts to voice meant very little to her. Lana could ignore the thoughts when they occurred in the quiet of her own mind, but not when they are being voiced. Denial was a fragile thing and she wanted to keep it as intact as possible. She bundled the new clothes under her arms before she turned to the now silent Cole. There was an expression of guilt on his face and she felt the same emotion go through her.   
“Cole,” He looked up at her with puppy-dog eyes and she sighed. It really wasn’t his fault. He was merely the messenger of her own mind and it wasn’t very nice to ‘kill the messenger’. “It’s fine. You can’t help where my mind goes,” She wished that she could. “Are the bathes in the same place as before?” Lana asked. Cole needed something to help with and this was easy. A happy smile appeared on his face and wiped away the former one of guilt.  
“Yes…” It seemed as if he was going to say something else, but he restrained himself. She patted his shoulder as she went past him to the door.  
“You are very helpful,” Lana told him with sincerity before going off to the baths. God, she was excited to be clean.

One very long bath and a copious amount of soap later and she was finally clean. There had been no one down in the baths since it was so early, and for that she was thankful. Lana didn’t need any more people seeing her look like a filthy mess. Her dark red hair was now clean and hung in wet curtains to her shoulders. Her freckled skin was now back to its fair shade after being rid of the coating of dirt which had made her look tan. She even imagined that her vallaslin was more noticeable now that her face wasn’t splotched with filth. Unfortunately, the clothes she had been given were an odd fit. She guessed that they were Dalish in design judging by the comfortable leggings and woodsy theme. They were definitely made for the size of the average elf judging by how short the leggings were on her. Not noticeable with her foot wrappings, but uncomfortable nonetheless. The Ambassador most likely didn’t notice her height during their meeting. Most people didn’t unless she stood tall, a behavior she tried to rid herself of since she learned of the differences between herself and the modern Elves. However, she couldn’t complain very much. Her body was clean and so were her clothes. A true luxury considering her past months of travel.  
After bringing her dirty clothes back to her room and grabbing her pack, she spent some time wandering around Skyhold. Cole hadn’t shown up, so she figured she was free to walk around the structure and that she wasn’t needed at the moment. However, the walking quickly became depressing once she began to notice everything that was wrong or that had changed with the old fortress, so she went to the tavern. When one is in doubt about what to do, the local tavern is always the best bet to find some entertainment and get your mind off your thoughts. The bard that was present the previous evening was absent, as were most of the customers. She made her way to the same dwarf that was manning the bar yesterday.  
“Got anything other than gruel and bread today?” She asked in wry voice and the dwarf just stared at her blankly. “Figures. Can I get a bowl?” Shitty breakfast was better than no breakfast. The dwarf came back with a bowl and she traded some gold for it. Instead of eating at the bar, she decided to go sit at an actual table. After finding a seat, she was only two spoonfuls into her gruel when a gray mass sat in front of her. Lana looked upwards slowly and tried not to choke on said gruel. What the hell was a Qunari doing here? The man was massive and that was true even when comparing him to the previous Arishok. His face was scarred and there a black eyepatch covering one of his eyes. He wore no shirt and she could understand why. With the muscles and scars, his chest was impressive. If her chest was that impressive, she wouldn’t cover it either. His expression was mildly inappropriate considering he was leering down at her with a smirk. She coughed a bit to get the gruel dislodged from where she definitely didn’t choke on it.   
“Um...hello?” Lana greeted nervously. When faced with a giant ass Qunari, the best option was to be polite. Lesson number 243 learned while in Kirkwall.  
“Haven’t seen you around here and I would’ve noticed a redhead as fine as you.” He winked at her, which looked ridiculous considering he only had one eye uncovered. “Name’s The Iron Bull.” He held out a hand and she shook it. Trying not to think about how he could easily crush it.  
“I’m Lana.” She introduced herself and The Iron Bull grinned at her. “I got here yesterday.” She elaborated.   
“It’s very nice to meet you, Lana.” He said with a smirk and pointedly looked from her tits to her face. She couldn’t help the blush that blossomed on her face at the blatant checking out of her person. “Now, what’s a pretty thing like you doing in our neck of the woods?” He flirted.   
She took a moment to adjust to the fact that she was being flirted with by a Qunari, in the middle of a tavern, at the headquarters of the Inquisition. It was quite bizarre, but definitely not the oddest thing that had happened to her. “I’m visiting an old friend,” Lana told him.  
“Really? Because rumor is that some redhead elf is going to be Solas’s new assistant in all matters creepy and impossible.” He said pointedly and she frowned. Rumors got around that fast? That was worrying. Lana shrugged.  
“Well, I only came to visit. I didn’t find out about the job until I had already arrived.” Lana told him truthfully and his grin got wider. He folded his large hands underneath his chin and his eye held a harsh glint that she had seen many times before. It was the same glint that would appear in Fen’s eye while he interrogated a spy. Suddenly, this wasn’t a casual conversation or simple flirting. This was an interrogation. She mentally berated herself for not noticing before, but the appearance of a Qunari had really thrown her off.   
“I admit to being a bit curious about the ‘visiting’ part. Considering your ‘friend’ is a spirit, couldn’t it just save you the trip and use the Fade to visit you? Unless there was a reason you needed to come all the way to Skyhold? The one and only headquarters of the Inquisition.” He questioned in a voice of false friendliness. Lana hadn’t expected to be interrogated in the middle of breakfast nor by an unknown Qunari and it was throwing her off. She opened her mouth to respond to his unsaid accusations but was interrupted by the appearance of a dwarf next to Iron Bull.  
“Leave the poor lass alone, Bull. You know that Nightingale has it handled.” The dwarf chided the Qunari before pulling out a chair and plopping down next to him. She didn’t like the thought that Nightingale was investigating her, but she had at least expected that. Iron Bull’s questioning of her was not expected. The dwarf aimed a grin at her while setting down a strange weapon on the table. “Besides, any friend of Cole is a friend of mine.” The dwarf told Lana and then stuck a hand out. “Varric Tethras.”   
She was so surprised by the name that it took a few seconds for her to respond to the gesture. After taking a second glance at him, she took greater notice of the dwarf’s impressive chest hair and the contraption he had put on the table. Then her eyes widened as she realized what said contraption was.   
“Fuck.” She whispers in awe and absentmindedly shook an amused Varric’s hand while still staring at the item. “That’s Bianca. Isn’t it?” She asked. Since she was still enraptured with the crossbow, she didn’t notice the surprised look on Varric’s face nor the suspicious one on the Iron Bull’s face.   
“Yes, that’s her.” He confirmed with a few chuckles before looking at her with puzzlement. “Though, I’m curious as to how you recognized her?”   
Lana snapped out of her inner worship of the absolute pinnacle of dwarven craftsmanship in front of her and actually looked at Varric. Then she realized her plunder. Varric Tethras had been very careful to keep the existence of his crossbow out of the public’s eye. It was a one of a kind weapon and it wouldn’t be ideal for the invention to fall into anyone else’s hands. Normally, the only people who knew about it were Varric’s enemies and his allies. But, Lana just blatantly showed that she knew what it was and even used its name. She weighed the pros and cons of how she should answer his inquiry but decided to go with honesty.   
“You don’t remember me, do you?” She asked him and he shook his head negatively. “I’m Lana.” She told him. Unlike with the rest of her introductions, this one was hard. Lana tried to keep the pain out of her voice and off her face, but she knew that a small pained smile still emerged.  
Varric seemed confused for a few moments before she saw realization cross his expression. Then he looked at her, taking a moment to catalog her appearance before the same pained smile appeared on his face.   
“I thought you would be older.” He said with a smirk and a joking tone, but she could still hear the pain and betrayal behind it. However, she took it as the escape from darker times and more serious topics that it was meant to be. She could tell why he was so adored in Kirkwall.   
“I thought you’d be taller,” Lana joked with a smirk and Varric chuckled a bit.   
“You two know each other?” The Iron Bull asked in surprise. Both Varric and Lana turned their attention to their table mate that they had forgotten about.   
“Yeah, we used to run in some of the same circles back in Kirkwall,” Varric answered before looking at Lana with a smirk. “Besides, I don’t know many people back in Kirkwall who don’t know ‘The Savior of the Shackled’.”   
Lana let out a groan. “Why does everyone insist on remembering that silly name?” One of these days she was going to track down however coined the name and give them a piece of her mind.   
Bull looked at her with curiosity. “‘Savior of the Shackled’?”   
“You save one chatty elf and then suddenly people start giving ya titles.” She complained   
“At least it isn’t ‘The Hero of Kirkwall’. I fear that Hawke will never live that down.” Lana looked at Varric with a raised brow.  
“You’re the one that wrote the book about it.” She pointed out and Varric put on an innocent expression.  
“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Varric lied with a smirk and she rolled her eyes.  
“Uh-huh, just like you never wrote about Aveline’s love life and she totally didn’t ban you from the Hanged Man for a week when she found out,” Lana said sarcastically and Iron Bull chuckled.  
“Exactly.” Varric agreed.

 

Lana, Iron Bull, and Varric spoke through breakfast. They shared stories as they ate their bland gruel before they went their separate ways. The Iron Bull seemed to abandon his interrogation after Varric’s arrival and turned out to be good company. He wasn’t anything like the Qunari she had met in Kirkwall. He actually seemed to have humor and was obsessed with converting anyone and everyone to the Qun. They ended parting ways after breakfast. Varric and Iron Bull had Inquisition business to handle while Lana needed a few minutes alone. Being around Varric had brought back memories of nights spent in a rundown clinic. Nights that brought happy emotions and nights that brought anger, bitterness, and sorrow. More memories that she was trying to run away from. She knew it was useless to avoid them, but she simply couldn’t deal with them while being in a potentially hostile environment. Her mind needed to be in the present, not the past.   
She wandered around Skyhold after leaving the tavern before she came upon an empty archery range. There were a few moments of deliberation before she decided that she should probably take advantage of the range. There didn’t seem to be anyone around and even if there was, this would only cement her rogue background with the Inquisition. Lana also needed the practice. She had been relying too much on her daggers while in Kirkwall and her archery skills were suffering for it. Plus, nothing takes your mind off of unwanted thoughts better than good old-fashioned violence. So, she dropped down to the ground and started to rummage through her sack. She pulled out two daggers and set them next to her. There was a moment when she was tempting to reach farther into the bag, past the undetectable enchantments, and take out her true weapons. However, logic prevailed and she resisted. With templars and mages all around her, she couldn’t risk using them any more than she could in Kirkwall. She let out a resigned sigh. Looks like it would be a while longer before she would be able to feel their comfortable weight. Instead of grabbing them out, she emerged with a wooden box about as long as her forearm.   
Inside the box, laid the pieces of an ornate bow. She had been extremely lucky to meet the talented dwarf, Dagna, while Lana was in Kirkwall. It had been a chance meeting that was ridiculously beneficial. They had bumped into each other in the market and Dagna had been muttering about enchantments to herself. She ended up answering one of the questions that Dagna had asked herself and friendship bloomed. When Lana had pitched her idea of a bow that could be deconstructed and reconstructed in little time, a common weapon in Arlathan, and she was curious to see if the talented woman would be able to replicate it. She was incredibly impressed by the results of Dagna’s craftsmanship. It was made out of dark shiny metal that was sturdy, but flexible. On the inside of the bow, there were runes carved into the metal. Runes for accuracy, power, protection, and many others. The bow itself was split into four separate parts with the bowstring laying separate. She laid the parts on her lap and then started putting the bow together. Once the corresponding parts touched, a spark of magic would occur and the bow would weld together as if it had never been separated in the first place. A trick accomplished by a combination of dwarven genius and enchantments. A minute later and the bow was fully assembled. Then she dug through her bag once again and picked out a box that was identical to the one that held the bow. Lana opened the box and did a cursory examination to make sure that the arrows within were in good condition. She assembled them in the same manner as her bow and then made her way to one of the targets.   
The sound of the arrows hitting the target was like music to her ears. However, when she saw the results of her marksmanship she frowned. Her accuracy was off. She straightened her shoulders with a determined expression and started shooting again. An after an hour after the sound of thunking arrows began, she was hitting dead center again. Her fingers were sore and her hands were cramping, but she was glad for the practice. No one had told her off for practicing using the targets in the last hour, so she moved on to throwing her daggers. Not a move she liked to do since there is a chance of losing said daggers. However, if she got stuck with a long ranged attacker and had no time to draw her bow, she would rather lose a dagger than her life. Besides, she didn’t have an attachment to most of her daggers. They could always be replaced with the exception of her hidden ones.  
Lana had much better accuracy with her daggers than with the bow, so she started to move around a bit while throwing. Moving around a bit led to rolling as if to avoid attacks and rolling around led to her practicing as if she was in actual combat. Her imaginary opponents were faceless elves with staffs and hulking templars with broadswords. She spun, kicked, stabbed, and dodged while her mind was in the scene of war. There was no time for any thoughts about her past. Her muscles were pulling and her reaction times were slower than she was used to, but that was to be expected. She hadn’t been in any ‘real’ combat since she woke up. However, with the giant hole in the fade, she figured she would need the practice. As she spent longer fighting, her speed began to improve. Not by much, but enough for her to be satisfied. She stopped when the sun was past the mid-day mark. Her breathing slowed, her muscles relaxed, and the eyes she didn’t realize were closed, opened.   
The sound of clapping from out of her view had her muscles tensing right back up. She tried to calm her heart from the exercise and the surprise she felt. She hadn’t realized that she had let her guard down while fighting. She was becoming way too relaxed here. This was the second time she was taken off guard and it had only been day since she was here. Lana slowly turned around to face the audience she hadn’t realize she had. Standing across the field was the Iron Bull. Her muscles relaxed a small bit and she smiled. She had enjoyed her conversation with the large man, at least after he had stopped interrogating her.   
“Hey.” She greeted and he began to make his way over to her. He stood a few feet from her with his hands on his hips. Her back straightened in response to his towering height. There was a smirk on his face when he looked down at her. If she hadn’t seen his threatening expression before she would think that a smirk was the only expression he could make.  
“Those were some good moves. Don’t think I’ve ever seen an elf move so fast.” He praised her and his smile grew wider. This was not even close to her usual speed, but she took the compliment. If she were to remain undetected, no one would be seeing how fast she could really go. The only person she knew that could match her speed was the slave-hunter Fenris and he was enhanced with Lyrium. Iron Bull looked her sweaty form up and down. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen an elf so tall either, besides our Solas that is.” Opps. She fought the response to immediately shrink herself back down.   
“I drank a lot of milk as a child.” She said lazily in explanation. It was a total lie considering she barely had any food as a child, let alone expensive milk. She couldn’t really say that the reason for her unusual height was because the rest of the elves had shrunk. “Do you need something?” Lana asked.  
“Yeah, the Inquisitor and her party were just sighted. They should be back in Skyhold within the hour. The Spymaster wants you waiting in the War Room for them.” Iron Bull informed her. She was tempted to go change her clothes again, but the rest of her clothing was currently disgusting. Looks like she was meeting important people while sweaty and dirty. Again. She swore that the next moment she had free time, she was going to purchase more clothes.  
“I’ll make my way over there.” She gave him a parting smile before turning to leave. She was stopped by a large gray hand on her shoulder before she got very far. Lana resisted the urge to pry off the hand and instead looked at Iron Bull. “Yes?”   
The Iron Bull smirked at her. “If you are ever looking for a sparring partner…”  
“I’ll look for you.” She finished for him, trying to hurry him up. It would be a good idea to get to the War Room as soon as possible. The idea of sparring with him was interesting, though. He was most likely very strong due to his size and durable judging by his scars. It would take quick thinking and even quicker feet to beat him in a fight without resorting to magic.  
“Or ask around for the Chargers if you can’t find me.”  
“The Chargers?” Iron Bull’s smile got softer and his remaining eye was filled with fondness.  
“My mercenary company. All good people who can kick ass in a fight. You should be able to find at least one of them in the tavern at all times.” He explained. The Iron Bull being a leader of a mercenary group made sense with both his name and status as Qunari. She had heard that most Qunari that abandon the Qun end up in mercenary groups, but she had never seen evidence of that claim. Though, she supposed that the Hero of Ferelden's group could be considered mercenaries and they did have a Qunari. Something to ponder over later.   
Lana gave Iron Bull a nod to show she understood. “I’ll keep that in mind if I’m ever itching for a fight.”   
“Or a good fuck if you like.” Lana choked on her tongue. A blush spread to her cheeks unbidden and she looked away from the man that was now leering at her. Mythal’s sagging tits, he did not mince words. It was flattering, in a way, but she wasn’t interested. The man could probably break her spine with his bare hands. Plus, she was planning on staying away from any relationships considering the last one blew up in her face. Literally.  
“Uh...ok?” Was what she responded with.   
“Just something to keep in mind.” He tacked on and then swaggered away. She noted to herself that she should be careful around him. The man propositioned her for sex as easily as he did for a spar. That was not a man she wanted to mess with.   
Lana decided to make her way to the War Room as sneakily as possible. She didn’t want to be stopped or delayed, so she would make sure that no one saw her. As she snuck around, hiding in shadows and keeping her head down, she thought over the odd assortment of people in the Inquisition. There was a Qunari mercenary captain whose lack of shirt seemed to predict a lack of caring about social conventions. Especially considering recent events. Then there was Varric Tethras. He was a famous author, a close friend of the Hero of Kirkwall, the wielder of the only crossbow that’s above ground, and he had connections with the Carta. Solas seemed to be some sort of Elven mage who had a high position in the organization, despite his race and mage status. She had also heard they had a Grey Warden, a Red Jenny, a Tevinter mage, and even the ever famous Madame De Fer. It made her excited to meet the woman, if rumors were correct, that had brought them all together. Lana couldn’t even imagine having Madame De Fer in the same room as a Red Jenny, let alone working with one. If she believed in the Maker, she would be tempted to say it was Divine intervention that was keeping them all together.   
She moved her thoughts of divinity to the back of her mind as she arrived at the War Room. The doors were shut, but since she was told to come here, she didn’t hesitate to pry them open. There was no one in yet, so she took a seat in a chair that was tucked into the corner of the room. She elegantly crossed her legs, put her hands in her lap, and began to wait for the Inquisitor’s arrival.


End file.
